Bigger Pleasures (giantess growth)

CHAPTER I: T.P.P.

Of course Ridgecrest University ended their school year later than everyone else.

Of course every other summer job in Shelby Beach in had been taken by the time Viv got home.

And of course Tiny Pussy Primrose wound up working at the only adult toy store in town.

Vivian Primrose blew the dust off a silicone dick. It'd be a bit more embarrassing if anyone was watching, but Candi's Shoppe thankfully lacked storefront windows, and business wasn't exactly booming most Tuesday afternoons. Wiping the dildo clean with her rag, the 20-year-old sat it back down on its shelf with a plop.

One penis down, hundreds to go. The tiny, velvet-walled boutique somehow fit more dicks than a frathouse.

Wiping down another, Viv impatiently eyed the store clock. Just a few more hours and she'd be free — free to sit in her childhood bedroom and watch Netflix alone all night. Some fucking summer this was turning into.

How had her social life come to this? She was cute. She had curves in all the right places — C-cups, a nice round ass, hips that looked especially wide on her 5'2 body. For most of high school, she had all the positive attention she could ask for.

She almost had Jake Dodson.

Viv had started dating the lacrosse player senior year. As horny as she had always secretly been, she had been saving her virginity for a guy like him — nice car, handsome face, massive dick.

Too massive, it would turn out. She had heard it was normal for girls to bleed during their first time, but he couldn't even slide inside of her. As much as she needed his cock, his tip alone felt like sheer torture. So they waited a week and tried again.

And again. And again. She just couldn't fit him.

Viv was the one to break things off. It was a pre-emptive strike; he hadn't texted her in three days, so she knew something was coming. But what the fuck was wrong with her pussy? Maybe she just needed some experience with smaller guys. The last year of high school was the perfect time to be a slut, anyway. And so she started sleeping around — or trying to, at least.

Rick Arles from the swim team. She tried riding his chlorine-soaked dick in the locker room after practice. He was too big, too.

Gabe Cruz. They tried fucking at a party and then he ran off to flirt with Molly Nilsson when he realized he couldn't fit.

Brian Davis. Fucking Microdick Davis couldn't fit his penis inside of her.

And then, Viv recused herself from the dating scene altogether. She acted as if it was her choice, like she had become a born-again virgin (though she was still a literal virgin, technically speaking).

But by then it was too late. The legend of Tiny Pussy Primrose had been born.

Men yelled out "TPP" when Viv walked through the hallway as if they had just spotted Bigfoot. At least a dozen asked her to sign it in their yearbooks.

And now Tiny Pussy Primrose was back in town, working full-time at a shop that sold foot-long dongs. What could be more embarrassing?

"Don't forget the sculpture!" her boss Candi yelled from the backroom. Viv's eyes turned to the five-foot granite penis at the front of the store.

Right. That would be more embarrassing. She squirted her rag and reluctantly got to work on the polished stone, starting with a bulbous tip that stretched wider than her hips.

The one saving grace of this job had been that none of her former classmates would see her. Gen Z got all their sex toys on Amazon or those cheap Chinese sites. All Viv had to deal with were kinky boomers and quirky lesbian couples.

And then Lana Camden found out.

Lana was one of the prettiest girls in Viv's class, one of the richest and, as typically follows, one of the bitchiest. There had been a period of maybe three weeks in senior year where Viv thought she had finally earned her approval. That's when Lana slept with Gabe Cruz, who doubtlessly told her Viv's secret — and less than four days later, the entire school knew what "Tiny Pussy Primrose" meant.

Viv and Lana didn't speak after. Viv didn't dare look Lana in the eye after. But when Lana and her clique managed to sneak up on her, she'd always whisper the same poison-tipped words into Viv's ear:

Hey, Primrose.

And now somehow, fucking somehow, the bitch had found out where she worked. Poor little Tiny Pussy Primrose, making minimum wage selling the cocks she knew she could never handle. How could a demon like Lana resist? She started making visits to the store around 6:00pm, often with friends but increasingly solo, always making a point to pick out one of the biggest dildos they had— as if to say, look what I can fit.

Viv looked at the clock again. 5:34. T-Minus 26 minutes until that bitch found some new way to ruin her entire evening.

No. Not today. The moment she walked in, Viv would tell her to fuck off and that would be that. Her boss would back her up. It didn't matter if Lana had become one of Candi's most reliable customers. Right?

Ring-a-ding.

"Hey, Primrose."

It was the mother of all jumpscares. Viv spun around to see Lana, her evil grin spread wider than usual. She had caught her favorite loser wiping clean a 60-inch dick.

"H-hi."

The 5'7 bombshell strutted over to the sculpture, genuine Goyard bag in hand. Normally a place like this would be beneath her, but she was clearly deriving some sort of erotic pleasure from torturing Viv. Besides, she had never hidden how much she loved to fuck.

"Mmmm. He's big, isn't he?," she giggled, face to face with Viv as she gave the massive phallus a bear hug. "Think they grabbed him off some poor ol' statue?"

"...I don't know." Viv took her rag and tried finding something else to dust.

"You don't know? I thought you were the expert now," she said, touching every piece of phallic merchandise as she stalked her prey through the store. Her skinny fingers spun through a carousel of erotic birthday cards.

"Anyhoo, my parents are in Salzburg for the weekend, so I figured it's a good time to load up," she said, as if she didn't stop by every single day. She stopped by a rubber mannequin, using her hands to present his 8-inch rubber member like she was a QVC host. "What do you think? Could something like this make me happy?"

"I'll ring you up," muttered Viv, avoiding eye contact as she made her way behind the counter.

Lana gave a mock gasp. "Trying to rush to me along? You're in retail, Primrose. You should know your job is to..."

She walked her fingers along a shelf to an even larger cock — 10 inches tall, 2.5 inches thick, with a tiny dial dangling off of it that controlled its vibration.

"...upsell." She gripped its head tight, then gingerly swung it onto the counter.

Viv was ready to erupt. There was no fucking way Lana could fit that up her cunt. It didn't matter how many stupid jocks she—

Ring-a-ding. Someone else walked in.

Lana rolled her eyes. "Jake! I told you to stay in the carrr."

Jake Dodson.

She was fucking Jake Dodson?

"The A/C was off and you had the keys," the 6'5 lacrosse player said, sweating. "I keep telling you, it gets really— oh. Hey, Viv."

"H-hey, Jake," replied Viv, already on the verge of tears.

"Sorry about my boyfriend," Lana said with a giggle, wrapping an arm around his sweaty Adidas tee.

BOYFRIEND?

Jake hunched down to kiss Lana's lips. Viv's watery eyes strained open.

Don't blink. Don't let this bitch see you cry.

But the beast had had her fill. "I think we better be going," Lana whined to Viv with a fake pout. "He gets impatient."

She flicked the dong on the table with her pinky and, giving a final sinister smirk towards Viv, dragged Jake out of the store. "See you, Viv," said Jake before he could be sucked back into the sunlight.

But Viv was frozen. What could she say? What can anyone say when the heartless bitch who ruined your life returns to twist the knife one last time?

She wished Jake would at least have the sense not to date that cunt. But what was the point of wishing? There were no shooting stars in this world, anyway.

CLANK! Something dark and tiny slammed the glass counter with the force of a meteorite. Viv leapt back.

It was a store key.

"Wife slipped on our dumbass son's Legos. Gonna need you to close tonight," Candi said, not even looking at her employee through her thick Gucci shades as she marched for the door.

Improbably, "Candi" was her birth name, though it likely in no small part inspired her uncle to leave her his adult store in his will. (That and her ten-year stripper career.) But that was the oddest thing about her, and the 34-year-old had been a pretty good boss to Viv, all things considered.

Well... except when she had more important matters to attend to. She snapped her gum as one would their fingers to get Viv's attention. "Viv."

Viv looked up from the key. "Huh? Yeah. Closing," she nodded, right before remembering she had no clue what that entailed. "Um, Candi, I've never—"

Candi sighed, and even through her shades Viv could tell she was rolling her eyes. "The front door's got a lock. You lock it. Oh, we also got some new Bespokes to unbox in the back."

Viv nodded, but her boss sensed something was off. She took off her shades, putting them in her purse. "Viv. You been crying?"

"No! No," Viv lied through a swollen throat. "It's funny, I, um, I got that new black cherry lube on my fingers, and then I rubbed my eyes with those fingers, and I'm probably allergic, and, um..." She wiped a tear before realizing it contradicted her alibi. "And now I'm obviously making it worse, huh?", she said with an anxious laugh.

"How'd black cherry lube get on your hands?," Candi asked, her tone suddenly accusative.

"Oh, I wasn't using it for me— there was this customer who—"

Candi laughed, obviously messing with her. "Relax, Viv. I'm not a cop. Well, not since that one summer I worked bachelor parties."

Viv tried faking a laugh of her own through obvious sniffles. "Okay, but I wasn't, um— using anything."

Candi smiled. "I know. You should get yourself something. Learn about the merchandise. Customers love it when you know about the merchandise." Viv blankly nodded along. "I told you about that employee discount, right? 60%. That's a damn good discount, Viv. I'm losing money."

"Oh, I know. It's just that even with the scholarship, I've got this car I'm trying to pay off, and—"

"I get it. Still, you gotta treat yourself more."

"Right." Viv still hadn't told Candi about her... situation. But what good was an adult store employee who couldn't even handle a silicone microdick? Besides, it was nice having someone in town who saw her as normal.

"And hey, let me know if that whole poly-sci-whatever thing doesn't work out," said Candi, putting her shades back on as she exited the store.

"I could really see you taking on a bigger role around here."

CHAPTER II: Bespoke Pleasures

Tuesday nights were thankfully quiet, giving Viv little to do besides mop the floor and dream of different ways she could kill Lana. At 10:00pm sharp, she closed up the cash register, ready to tuck into some Trader Joe's stir-fry and 5 episodes of Suits.

Shit, she realized, approaching the door. Didn't Candi say I had Bespokes to unbox? Her entire body groaning, she headed into the store's backroom.

"Bespokes" meant Bespoke Pleasures, a high-end brand of exotic specialty toys. Viv couldn't imagine how half their products were even meant to be used — that five-headed starfish dildo was a particular puzzler — but they had enough of a niche audience in town for Candi to keep buying more.

Candi was a shrewd saleswoman but not so experienced with the business management side of things, as evidenced by her cluttered office. Around 15 feet by 15 feet, its space was filled with office supplies, tables stacked with old bills, and more chairs than the store's two-person staff could possibly necessitate.

Today, they had gotten new boxes from the Monstrous series, Bespoke's line of oversized dildos inspired by giant mythological creatures. They were all far too large for the human body, obscuring their use case, but in their own odd way they made Viv feel reassured. She couldn't make them fit, but nobody else could, either. Definitely not Lana. A slight smirk crept across Viv's face as she got to unboxing.

There were only four packages, but they took up an entire table:

- THE UNICORN, a thick 18-inch horn of creamy silicone that only grew thicker as it spiraled downwards. Unicorns themselves aren't monstrous, per se, but good luck getting past the first few inches.

- THE CYCLOPS. Apart from the whole eye situation, cyclopses are just humans but bigger, and the design reflected that. A bulbous tip sat atop a six-inch-wide base that ran down nearly two feet before meeting two orange-sized balls.

- THE DRAGON. This was a gargantuan, gnarly beast, sporting multi-sized rows of smooth crimson spikes that ran down its base. Six inches thick and five times as tall, Viv couldn't think of any use for it outside of exotic roleplay. At least the Cyclops would make a good gag gift.

And then there was THE KRAKEN.

It was actually the most utilitarian of the lineup, beginning with the pointy, somewhat narrow tip of a suctioned purple tentacle. But as you slid down the tentacle, it grew, and grew, and grew — slowly expanding outwards along its absurd four-foot length until it arrived at a twelve-inch-thick base.

Viv cringed at the thought of something that could literally split her in half. She wasn't even sure how she'd get it out of the box. With an awkward hug, she tried lifting the four-foot-tall package. It was much, much heavier than she'd imagined, and as she slid it off the table it pulled her down to the ground with it. The two landed with a thud.

Getting up with a groan, Viv noticed one last box that had been hidden behind the Kraken. It was much smaller than the rest: slender and skinny, roughly the size of her forearm. It carried the Bespoke logo, but beside it was another logo reading AUDUS — along with a bright yellow sticker reading "PROTOTYPE."

Candi had told her about this — sex toy makers often sent out early models to store owners for them to "test drive". Better let the boss take care of this one, Viv thought, though she turned the package over anyway.

THE SPELLCASTER

The grandeur of the name was laughable given the photo underneath — a skinny, twig-like brown rod that her grandmother could probably snap in half. It would have been right at home in a Harry Potter porn parody.

This state-of-the-art pleasure device uses machine-learning technology to perfectly fulfill every user's desires, ensuring no one is left unsatisfied.

No one, huh?, thought Viv with a sad smile. Somehow, she was sure even this twig would be too big for her.

Although... it did look pretty skinny. And wasn't Audus that company making AI-assisted smart speakers up in the Bay Area? Her aunt owned one of their bark-activated dog food bowls. Viv doubted such a large corporation would partner up with a niche sex toy brand if they weren't 100% confident in what they were doing.

Maybe it is time to take a bigger role around here, Viv thought.

Carefully peeling off the tape, she unopened the box to find the slender stick from the illustration. It looked like... a slender stick, dark brown with slight intentional bends along its length. But more importantly, it was slender like a stick — maybe half an inch at its widest. Slender like something that could fit Viv.

Maybe there's a button or something, she thought, reaching to pull the stick from its styrofoam case — but the instant she touched it, its surface burst into a sea of bright iridescent blues, coating the dim room in its light. Viv squinted. Batteries included, I guess.

After double-checking the store's door was locked, she returned to the backroom, hopped into her boss's comfy swivel chair and slid down her pink shorts. She had gone so long without sex that the thought of a toy that could even potentially pleasure her was making her insatiably horny.

And yet as she grabbed the Spellcaster in her hand, her anxiety was giving her pause. What if even this didn't fit? That crooked surface scared her. How was she even meant to work this? Audus made smart speakers — was she supposed to talk to it?

"Hey," Viv said. The Spellcaster said nothing.

A hot summer night and here she was, trying to talk to a stick. She had never felt more pathetic in her life. Just put it in, you coward.

As if magnetically controlled, her hand overcame her own fears, slowly guiding the Spellcaster towards her already-wet lips. Her body needed to fuck badly, her own tolerance be damned. She thought to stroke herself with it first, but her libido was too impatient for foreplay.

Here goes nothing.

"Nnnngh." Viv felt a jolt of pain and clenched her teeth. The first inch felt thick — embarrassing Viv, given how comedically skinny it was.

But it also felt... good. The glowing blue surface seemed to warm to her own body temperature instantly. She slid in another inch, expecting to wince. Yet her pussy hungrily gripped the Spellcaster, sending constant waves of pleasure to Viv's mind.

Through the bliss, she could almost feel vibration. Weird, she thought — it wasn't doing that before.

She held the Spellcaster in place, intending to take things easy, but her pussy's needs won over and within seconds she had slid in a third inch. She let out a small moan. Fuck. When was the last time she felt this good?

A fourth inch and her moans grew louder. "Never," Viv panted, answering her own question out loud. "I've never felt... this good..."

A gentle hand began rocking the Spellcaster back and forth, and the spots of blue began shifting in response, as if trying to predict her next move.

"Mmmnnn... I wish every toy..."

The humming increased, now audible. Viv's hand sped up. They were the same piece of machinery, working together to bring her to the same beautiful goal.

"...mmmmNnnn...fit me..."

Those waves of pleasure felt like they could capsize boats now. Viv had never reached orgasm, but she could tell she was getting close.

"...like this..."

ZAP.

"FUCK!," Viv yelled in literal shock, yanking the toy out from her. The stick had just electrocuted her. "Fucking prototype," she growled, kicking it across the floor. It left a visible snail trail she knew Candi would notice, but she'd deal with that later. She still had to put the rest of the Bespokes out.

But now it was impossible for her to focus. That stupid toy had left her blue-balled, or whatever the XX-chromosome equivalent was.

How much was that employee discount again...?

CHAPTER III: Bigger Pleasures

Clitoral toys? Nope. Wands? Nope. Butt plugs? Definitely not. Viv roamed through the store's aisles, desperate.

All those other things had given her some degree of pleasure in the past (besides butt plugs — maybe someday), but her pussy was crying for penetration. The same penetration she'd been denying it all these years.

Arriving at the right section, she resisted grabbing the 7.5-inchers that lined the shelves. She wasn't going to repeat the mistakes of her high school sex life — she'd just find the tiniest, thinnest model they had.

THE PENCIL. Perfect. While it wasn't quite skinny as its name suggested, it wasn't much bigger, around the length and width of a dry-erase marker. She almost ran to the cash register to buy it for herself, giddy with lust-fueled excitement.